Temptatio
by Sixteen clumsy and shy
Summary: Set during the Spanish Inquisition 1478-1834 Lovino, a priest, is wrongly accused of sodomy and witchcraft. Implied rape, torture, and sadistic Inquisition!Spain


_Convicted...**convicted**_

That word ran through his mind like the headache causing his eyes to lull in their sockets. The young priest could feel his teeth becoming loose, and he thought of them falling out. It made him cringe.

The cell the Spanish bastards had thrown him into was small, barely a cramped broom closet. He could hear rats scurrying over the floor; the mildewy smell from the mold growing on the walls assaulted his nose, causing a small cough to over take his slim frame and his stomach to lurch. He could barely see his hand in front of his face because of the almost tangible curtain of darkness (though he could barely lift his arms.)

The young priest, Lovino Vargas, hailed from the Vatican; barely twenty-three and he had already been well on his way to becoming a bishop. He had been asked for specifically by the Grand Inquisitor in Spain, and so, following the orders of Pope Gregory IX, the eldest Vargas brother had traveled to the peninsula.

Lovino gulped, closing his eyes when he felt tiny rodent feet shuffle over his hand.

As soon as he had stepped off the ship from Italy, cold iron shackles were clamped around his skinny wrists and ankles. He was roughly shoved into a cramped prisoners wagon, meeting the wide fearful stares of many other people. They spoke in quick Spanish; tears poured out of their sunken gazes, and Lovino felt dead fear sink into his gut. He could only make out a few phrases of the peoples' confused jabber, but the young priest couldn't answer, or calm them.

Lovino opened his tired hazel eyes when the door to his cell opened with a high-pitched squeak. A hooded guard pulled him up by his chocolate brown hair, causing a stream of Italian curses to leave his lips.

The hall was cold with dimly lit torches; Lovino could make out the shapes of other cells as the silent guard pulled him past. The young priest swallowed his fear, anger and confusion. He tried to keep his head level, but the sharp tugging of the guard's hand in his hair caused small whimpers to bubble from his throat.

They stopped outside of the room; the door was heavy as the guard pulled it open, depositing the young priest onto the ground before slamming it closed, locking him inside.

Lovino didn't lift his eyes up to the Head Inquisitor; he knew a cheerful, almost lazy smile would be on the man's lips.

They had only met briefly in passing when the Spaniard had been sent by his king to the Vatican. It had been a fleeting glance, but the young Italian remembered seeing the slight madness swimming under the Spaniard's cheery demeanor. Lovino remembered, after the male had walked away, crossing himself and praying to God that they would never meet again.

"_Buenos días_~" The young priest kept his eyes firmly rooted to the stone ground. He heard a small sigh come from across the room, and then the soft thumping of leather boots against dusty stone. The black leather stopped right under his nose, and Lovino could see a loop of rope being tapped against the Head Inquisitor's leg. "You're being very rude, _Father_." The rope stilled it's moving, and a lightly tanned hand curled under the Italian's chin, forcefully pulling his face toward the cruel emerald gaze of the Head Inquisitor.

A small smile flirted with the edges of the Spaniard's rosy mouth when Lovino grudgingly met his eyes. The priest glared, trying to put all his hate for the man into his expression, but that only amused the crazed male. The small smile on the male's lips grew to a full out grin as he weaved his fingers through the priest's brown hair. His other hand tightened around the thick rope; he roughly pulled the younger male upward, barking at the other two inquisitor's in Spanish.

Lovino cried out when they stripped him of his robes until he stood naked in the middle of the room. They pushed him over to a long, blood stained wooden plank with ropes hanging from the ceiling and floor. They tied his arms and legs, almost cutting off the blood flow; he was standing with his back to the men, legs spread eagle. An embarrassed flush over took Lovino's face, and he stared at a darkly coloured dried stain.

He heard the Head inquisitor calmly telling the other men leave. The door slammed closed, leaving the small priest and the crazed male alone. He heard something being picked up, but flinched when fingers moved lightly against the back of his naked leg. "It is hard to believe that God would allow something like you into the priesthood." His voice was low as he traced the small of Lovino's back. The priest swallowed thickly.

"W-what are you talking about?" His voice cracked slightly, betraying his fear.

The Spaniard's fingers stopped their stroking. He felt the male flex his fingers, digging his short nails into the flesh. Lovino hissed in pain, squeezing his eyes closed until the stinging stopped. "_Sodomite_, instrument of Satan!" A hand clamped around Lovino's slender neck; the fingers constricted slowly, cutting off the priest's air supply. He began to see black spots clouding his vision, and he let out a gurgling gasp.

"I remember you, Lovino Vargas; a year ago I had visited the Vatican and we talked for a short time." The priest could hear the Spaniard smile to himself. "I could only admire your innocence and love for God, but that night, sinful thoughts of you over took my mind and I _knew_ that you were _evil_." Lovino whimpered when the fingers tightened again; frantic pleas to God filled the priest's mind.

The male's hand unwrapped itself from around the Italian's neck, and Lovino silently thanked God. "You're a pawn of Satan sent to tempt me, to make me stray from the righteous path that God has chosen for me to follow." The priest heard the male step back, boots making a soft noise on the stone. Something sharp was placed against his back; four stinging areas resting against his flesh. Before Lovino could wonder what torture the Inquisitor was going to inflict on his body, sharp, hot pain tore down his back.

A strangled cry ripped from Lovino's throat as the sharp iron ripped open his flesh. Tears poured from his eyes, and he felt his head growing lighter as he lost blood.

Minuets that felt like years passed; the priest's back was shredded and hot blood dripped down his legs, pooling on the ground. "This can end _Father_, just acknowledge what you are..."

"_D-Domine Iesu, dimitte nobis debita nostra, s-salva nos ab igne inferiori, perduc in caelum omnes animas, praesertim eas, quae misericordiae tuae maxime i-i-indigent_." The iron dug further into the slashes as he prayed.

"SILENCE!" The Inquisitor screeched, twisting the device in the priest's flesh. Lovino choked back a sob, feeling bile rise to his throat. The spikes were pulled from his back; the clatter of the iron echoed through-out the room.

The silence was heavy between the two as it stretched. Lovino shuddered with pain; his ears perked when he heard the Inquisitor shift behind him. Fingers prodded at the long gashes, slipping and scraping down the raw flesh. A pained groan ripped at Lovino's throat when the fingers dug further into his flesh. "Please don't--" Teeth clamped angrily down on the rounded flesh of the priest's shoulder. He cried out even more when the Inquisitor's nails tore down his ruined back.

"You tempt me so..." The bite was followed by a sloppy kiss, almost as if the crazed Spaniard was trying to make up for the torture. "_Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi Te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen_." The prayer was hastily whispered as he pressed himself against the Italian's bloody back. Lovino could feel the cross pressing into his skin.

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**_PLEASE NO FLAMING; I DO NOT MEAN TO OFFEND ANYONE._**

_Set during the Spanish Inquisition (1478-1834). The torture method mentioned in this was called the Spanish Tickler, or the Cat's Paw. _

_Inquisition!Spain was fun to write, and this was inspired by: http: // badbadtzmaru .deviantart. com/ art/ APH-oC-New-Methods-134612021 (just take out the spaces)_

_Please review!_


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